“You like that, little bunny?”
She moans louder.
I hold her throat lightly, tracing my thumb down the front of it. “Answer my question, zayka.”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I leave her that way and walk behind her, out of her line of sight.
“Nikolai?”
I don’t answer.
“Wait, what are you doing?” A thread of panic rings in her voice.
“Letting you simmer,” I reply. “Remember that you don’t have permission to come.”
“Oh my God,” she moans. “This is crazy. You can’t do this to me. Nikolai?”
“Be good,” I warn.
I leave to wash my hands with soap to make sure the peppermint oil is gone before I move to the next stage of my plan. I put on her favorite song, “Low,” or at least the one she danced to in her kitchen because it has now become my favorite.
When I walk around to the front of her, she’s in a semi-trance like state, her head lolling, her eyes dilated. She rolls her hips slowly forward and back over the vibrator, looking like the most beautiful eye candy I’ve ever seen.
“Blyad,’ Chelle.” I give my dick a hard squeeze over my jeans. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”
She straightens her spine. “Then do it.” Her voice has a pleading quality. She squirms against the ropes. “Please, Nikolai.”
I’m convinced.
I walk behind her and start to untie her wrists. “I’m not going to fuck that tight little pussy of yours this time,” I warn her.
“Oh God,” she murmurs.
I grasp her throat from behind and bring my lips to her ear. “You ready to get your ass fucked by me?”
She whimpers.
“I think you are.” I pause in my untying. “Or do you need more time with the vibrator?”
“No,” she says quickly, then backpedals. “I mean, I don’t know... “
I chuckle. “You liked it last night when I fucked you with the plug.”
“You are so dirty,” she says like she’s offended, except I hear levity in her voice.
“You like it dirty,” I counter. I get her hands untied and work on her torso. The ropes were fun, and she looked beautiful, but now I can’t get them off her fast enough. “Next time I’m going to tie you in a position I can fuck you in,” I mutter and she laughs.
I free her completely, but hold her in place when she starts to jump down from the barstool. “Uh uh.” I push the bullet vibe inside her, still running, then heft her over my shoulder.
“Oh my God, Nikolai!” she giggles as I walk her to the bedroom. I give her ass a slap before I drop her in the middle of the bed.
“On your knees and elbows, zayka,” I command.
She rolls over and climbs into position.
I curse in Russian because she looks so hot. The vibrator hums between her legs, making her pussy leak with juices. Grabbing the lubricant, I apply a generous amount to her anus then to my cock.
She doesn’t resist this time. Humming softly, she pushes back to take me, and I press forward. She lets out a wanton cry—half pain, half pleasure as my head passes through the tight ring of muscles.
“Nikolai,” she sobs.
I go slowly, feeding her inch by inch until my cock is fully seated. I wait, watching her bowed back move with her pants. When she sags a little, I begin to slowly pump.
She lets out a cry with each movement, but I hear the satisfaction in her notes. She grows louder with each one, throwing my name in every once in a while.
“You can touch yourself, zayka.”
“Ohhhhhh,” she moans as she reaches between her legs to rub her clit. “Nikolai, may I please come?”
I curse again in Russian, my balls drawing up. She’s so fucking sweet. “Da,” I grunt. “Come, little bunny.”
I grip her hips and pound in faster, taking care not to be too rough.
Her moans and shrieks send me over the edge, and I thrust in harder and faster, lights dancing in front of my eyes.
“Come, Chelle,” I croak right before I hurtle across the finish line. I squeeze the sides of her ass too tight, giving her short little thrusts as I come and come like I’ll never stop.
When I finish, I reach underneath her hips to help. “Did you come?” I ask hoarsely, rubbing her clit.
She cries out, and her entire pelvic floor tightens and draws up, squeezing my dick more than I would’ve thought possible. She moans and moans as it rolls through her, and I rub her clit the whole time. As soon as she goes still, I ease out.
“Nikolai,” she gasps. I love hearing my name in that torn, raspy voice. “Oh my God.”
I kiss her shoulder and tug the bullet vibe out. She collapses on the bed like I melted her bones. I wash up in the bathroom and bring a washcloth to clean her.
“Mmm,” she hums softly.
“Worth it,” I mutter to myself.
She rolls to her back, her small breasts separating, her nipples still stiff. “What is?”
“You.”
Her gaze meets mine, and she’s not my little firecracker. She looks vulnerable, like she wants to believe me, but is afraid there’s some trick.
I palm her breast and lean over to give her a slow, open-mouthed kiss. I want to tell her she can trust me. That we won’t break up now that we’ve had sex, but I realize it’s irrelevant. I can’t heal her wounds if she doesn’t want me. And Chelle’s never going to accept what I am. Who I am.
16
Nikolai
Mid-week, I get a call from the guy named Viper. I’m upstairs in the penthouse, and the moment I get it, I signal to Sasha to silence the television, and I point to the phone. Maxim and Ravil walk over, and I put the guy on speaker.
“Heard you were in the market for pussy.”
“That’s right. To own not rent,” I answer.
“Who do you work for?”
“My boss is head of the Chicago bratva,” I tell him. “Are your girls Russian?”
“Yes. Which is a problem, since none of us speak Russian.”
My nostrils flare as I meet Ravil’s cold gaze.
“My boss has resources.” Meaning—we can afford to buy the women.
“I’ll deal with him directly.”
“He’s right here.” I hand Ravil the phone.
“Ravil Baranov. Who am I speaking with?”
“You can call me Viper. How many girls do you want?”
Ravil sends us all a grim look. “How many are available?”
“Fourteen.”
“How much?”
“Two thousand a piece.”
A choking sound beside me reminds me that Sasha’s in the room. She has one hand clapped over her mouth, and her big, expressive eyes swim with tears. Maxim reaches out and squeezes her shoulder.
“I’ll give you twenty-five thousand for the lot.”
A shocked scoffing sound emits from under Sasha’s hand.
“All right. You have the money now?”
“I have it.”
“Tonight. Eleven-thirty. I’ll text an address at eleven.” He ends the call without a goodbye.
“What. The holy fuck?” Sasha cries. “I’m going to puke.”